


The Second Time Around

by LandOfMistAndSecrets



Series: Thanks For Playing [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Continuing Reconciliation, Frustrating Teens Learning To Be Slightly Less Frustrating People, Learning To Communicate, M/M, Porn with some plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfMistAndSecrets/pseuds/LandOfMistAndSecrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ongoing Post-Canon slice of life stuff. Dirk and Jake are back together, but Dirk has some reservations -- mostly about himself, as usual. Luckily they both have their friends around, this time, and whatever experience one failed go at this whole relationship business imparts, too. </p><p>They'll probably figure it out sometime between now and eternity, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Time Around

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much a sequel to a previous work of mine, [All The Things That Divide Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449055). It's not necessary to understand what's going on here, but it will add a lot of context!

Taking things slow is difficult.

Taking things slow is especially difficult, Dirk thinks, when your ludicrously attractive boyfriend is straddling your hips, letting his rough fingers wander down your back. _Tremendously_ difficult when he keeps insisting on exploring your mouth with his tongue, filling the nonexistent space between you with muffled little moans. There's a movie playing on the screen somewhere past Jake's eager body; Dirk knows this because the sound of some overdone action scene is filling the room, wheels screeching, explosions exploding, bullets firing, and it's just about the least romantic makeout soundtrack he's ever endured. Glass breaks, protagonists scream in pain or dismay or both, and Jake grinds his hips into his. A tiny part of Dirk, a part that is observing this ridiculous tryst take place and able to comment objectively from beyond his fog of needy desire, wonders if Jake is oblivious to the cacophony, or if for him it's part of the appeal of the situation. 

Probably the latter. 

"Jake," Dirk says against his lips, muffled and barely coherent. He knows Jake hears it, because his fingers tighten almost painfully around him, thumbs digging into his ribs. But he doesn't stop. " _Jake_ ," Dirk says, again, pulling his head back, wincing. He doesn't want to stop, either. Of course he doesn't. He wants to roll right over, put Jake's hands on his hips, and beg him to fuck him into the couch cushions until he forgets how words even work, for awhile. 

But they're supposed to be taking things slow. 

Jake lets out an exasperated huff. His eyes flicker open, his brows crease with irritation, and Dirk notes the way he licks his lips before he speaks with something like actual agony igniting in his gut. How long are they supposed to wait? There's no actual answer. Until it feels right. Well, what's right? Is right wanting it so bad you'd almost rather die than stop it? 

"Right," Jake breathes. "Sorry. Got a little carried right off, there, I..." He trails off, shrugs. "Sorry," he repeats, lifting himself off Dirk's lap, swinging his knee back over, collapsing back against the couch. His hair is all fucked up, sticking up everywhere, and Dirk is pretty sure his isn't faring much better. 

"It's cool," Dirk hears himself say in this tone of voice that is very obviously trying to be chill, but failing on pretty much every level. Too high, too breathy, too hard to keep his tone neutral when his heart is still racing out of his chest. Fuck. "I mean, it's not that I'm not into it, because -- obviously, I am, it's just. You know." 

Jake doesn't respond. The movie keeps playing its obnoxious scene, and for a second Dirk is actually sure that Jake just went right back to watching it, just like that. An excruciating minute goes by, then: 

"I'm not sure I do, to be honest," Jake says, and Dirk lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. 

"You don't -- what?" 

"I don't know why it's so damned important that we hold off _doing_ things we'd both obviously be right tickled to be doing, again, for no reason except some malarkey about moving too fast, like this is all uncharted territory! We both know it's damn well not." 

It's kind of incredible, actually, this implication that Jake is so eager for him that he's actually _angry_ about the pacing so far. Or at least annoyed. It's kind of making Dirk grin, which, he figures, is probably not an appropriate response to the things actually being expressed, but hey. He can't help his feelings. "So, you _don't_ think this would be too fast?" 

"I don't know!" Jake throws his hands up, performs an exaggerated shrug. "I never had a great grasp of what too fast meant, even before, but if you ask _me_ the things we got up to in private weren't really a part of why it all went sour, were they?" 

Dirk feels his mouth twist. Maybe not for Jake. He has no idea how to explain his perspective in a way that won't make him sound shitty at best, or shitty _and_ insane at worst. 

" _Were_ they, Dirk?" Jake presses. Dirk can see him looking at him, now, from the corner of his eye, a sure sign that he isn't just going to let this one go. 

"I don't know," he says, honestly. How much of all that _miscommunication_ was him assigning too much fucking emotional significance to the way Jake would happily fuck him senseless and then hold him afterward, the way they'd sleep curled around each other and wake up stuck together, smiling ... 

But Jake isn't smiling now. "What, exactly, does _that_ mean, Strider?" He's practically glaring. 

"I just mean, it's possible that, like." He swallows. There is absolutely no fucking cool way to express this opinion, describe this situation. "I don't know, man? Maybe the shit that's like, hells of casual from your perspective actually sort of... wasn't, from mine?" 

God, it sounds a thousand times more petulant voiced aloud than it did in his head. He holds himself very still, sweating against the couch cushions. Jake shifts beside him. 

"It... wasn't?" He asks, but he asks it in this way that's half genuine question and half rhetorical realization, and Dirk isn't sure if he's actually asking him to elaborate, or not. And he really does not want to elaborate on this, it is so fucking embarrassing. So he just sits there, letting Jake work through it on his own. "But," Jake continues, when it becomes clear Dirk doesn't want to respond, "I thought it was just, you know? One of the benefits, so to speak, of involvement of the romantic sort?" 

"Yeah," Dirk says, staring carefully forward. He can _feel_ Jake's eyes on him, and he knows if he meets them he is going to lose his nerve and abandon this conversation immediately. "Sure, but, I mean. I guess the problems started when I thought -- mistakenly, obviously -- that your interest in those particular benefits meant you were interested in some other things I thought of as benefits of that very same thing." 

"It sounds like you're saying you think there's benefits I'm _not_ interested in," Jake says, and Dirk can _feel_ the undercurrent of hurt in his voice, and he just thinks, wearily, _here we go._

"It's not that," he says. "Just... different _levels_ of interest, maybe? I don't know, man. I'm not trying to call you out, or anything. Just trying to lay things out in the open, right? Be honest and shit. You know, the stuff Roxy and Jane are always on our asses about." 

"I see," Jake says. He still sounds annoyed. Dirk's stomach clenches, and it takes him a few seconds to quell a sudden panicked flurry of thoughts -- thoughts like _well, that's it, it's happening all over again, except this time instead of just falling back to earth in a gory gout of jet fuel and fire from halfway into orbit, this one is just going to explode messily before it can even actually launch._

They sit there in silence, pretending to watch the movie. Dirk's limbs feel too heavy, and the metric ass ton of popcorn he just ate is suddenly sitting queasily. Being honest is supposed to _help_ , god damn it, not feel immediately like a colossal mistake the second the words leave his mouth. 

"Well," Jake says, after an agonizing eternity of this. "Can I at least hold your damned hand, then?" 

"Uh, yeah," Dirk says, and he isn't sure _why_ that question fills him with such a sense of relief, but it does. Jake's hand finds his the second the words are out of his mouth, and he works his fingers through Dirk's, interlacing them, and grips hard enough to hurt. 

This is how they sit for the rest of the movie, and then all through the credits, and then through the post-credits scene. Dirk's hand is well and truly numb by the time they pull themselves off the couch, and the parting kiss he leaves with is careful, chaste, and wholly unsatisfying. 

He stares at the ceiling in his room and doesn't sleep at all, wondering how he could have explained himself better.

\--

  
TG: earth to dirk  
TG: hello dirk pls come in  
TT: You've got him.   
TT: Shit, someone needs to tell Roxy that the disembodied voice of our resurrected planet sounds exactly like her.   
TT: She'd get a real kick out of that, probably.   
TG: hell yeah  
TG: u know anyone around here w/better mom credentials?   
TG: for the whole mother earth shebang  
TG: das me  
TT: I'm glad we're just... embracing that, now? I guess?   
TG: i was never not embracing it u fuckin nerd youre the one all freaked the hell out about paternity issues  
TG: im cool as a cucumber  
TG: dispensing that motherly wisdom to our errant children one tender knowledge bomb at a time  
TG: and by that i mean  
TG: i have no idea what the FUCK i am doing but they dont seem to mind so neither do i :)  
TT: Are you with them, right now?   
TG: nah im with jane lmao   
TG: im tellin her all kinds of sordid stories about HER son cause im a piece of shit who cant keep shit to her damn self  
TG: like for instance  
TG: does jake ever have this problem w/you where he just like forgets its not sexy to keep ur eyes open while youre all gettin your mack on  
TT: ...Does John?   
TG: u ever just catch him starin at u like a fish in a bowl only with glasses  
TG: cute glasses btw that are actually required for seeing related activities and have nothing to do with being a douche who wont let ppl see his swoon worthy peepers   
TT: The thing is,  
TT: I'm imagining this. I'm actually imagining this conversation taking place, and I'm just thinking,   
TT: It's probably actually worse for Jane. How can it be worse? But it almost definitely is.   
TT: That's fucked up, Rox.   
TG: pft  
TG: janes a big girl she can deal  
TG: anyway she said jake was talkin about u?  
TG: in that cagey way that means theres problems  
TG: do tell   
TT: It's not like that.   
TT: I mean, it's not that bad. I don't think?   
TT: What did Jake say?   
TG: nothin  
TG: its kinda his mo   
TG: vague texts 2 jane all like oh i wanna talk about my shit but then he remembers that time jane was like a thousand percent done with his shit and told him off and loses his nerve and wanders off and idk probably talks to jade or something but that girl wont give up the dirt  
TG: ive tried trust me  
TG: frustrating af  
TT: I haven't actually seen Jake in a few days.   
TG: hmm   
TT: Like, I'm trying to be cool, right?   
TG: right  
TT: We hung out a few nights ago. It was fine.   
TG: are u tryin to put a fast one over on me?  
TT: Absolutely not.   
TG: youre sure?  
TT: I'm sure.   
TG: ok  
TG: well  
TG: if u start having problems youll talk to me right  
TT: Right.   
TG: promise?  
TT: Yeah. I promise.   


\--

"Hey, Dirk!" 

He looks up from where he is all but nested in a pile of scrap metal and assorted bits and pieces from scavenged robotic drones. Jade is waving at him, floating a couple centimeters off the ground the way she and John _always_ are. He'd call it a family trait, but Jane and Jake both seem unafflicted, so...? Bizarre. She hovers closer. 

"Hey," he greets her, carefully. It's sort of embarrassing to be caught like this -- he isn't even sure what he's looking for, really. It's just that when he gets restless and unhappy and his fingers start threatening to type long melodramatic messages he finds it's less humiliating to subject himself to robot parts than to other actual living people. There are pieces in here that he doesn't recognize, things they might be able to use in some of the still-defunct workshops and laboratories the Empress used while trying to resurrect her race on earth. Or maybe he just thinks the idea of a drone bot hard coded to do their bidding is a satisfying reversal of fortune. Hard to say which motivation is winning out at the moment, practicality or spite.

"I've got a _mission_ for you, should you choose to accept," Jade says, voice low and conspiratory. He straightens up and rolls his shoulders, raising his eyebrows at her in silent inquiry. " _This_ came through in the appearifier, this morning," she continues, and she whips this thing out of some pocket or another and holds it out toward him. It's a feather, Dirk realizes, but it isn't _just_ a feather, oh no. This thing is glowing like it's been irradiated to hell and back and idly strobing between neon colors, orange and green, back and forth. 

The appearifier she's talking about is built into one of the Condesce's labs on Jade and Jake's reclaimed island. Dirk narrows his eyes, considering her. "What kind of mission?" 

"I need to reverse engineer the readings from the lab's log files to find the coordinates this was sent from," Jade says. She's not looking at Dirk at all; her eyes are narrowed and studying the flashy little feather like all the mysteries of the new universe are contained within it. "It's _really_ important, Dirk, please? I think I could do it if I could just _access_ the data, but you're _way_ more familiar with this era's technology and I don't want to mess anything up!" 

"It's not that I don't want to help," Dirk says, holding up his hands. "It's just, this sounds more like a job for Roxy? If you need some kind of mechanical stuff done, no problem, but hacking into log files and extracting data... that's more her thing." 

Jade's face falls, and Dirk feels strangely guilty. Disappointing people, what else is new.

"I mean, I'll still give it a try, if you want. I'm just not sure I'm the best qualified person for the job, that's all." 

"Noooo, it's fine," Jade says, waving him off. "It's just, I guess I was kind of hoping it could be something we worked on together? I don't know. I already have a _thousand_ projects going with Roxy, it never ends! Which is a good thing! But you and I really never get to spend any time together, you know? And I just feel like, if you're so important to Jake, you and I should really... talk more!" 

"Oh," he says, stupidly. 

" _Oh,_ " she repeats, teasing. It makes him think of Jane. "He really thinks the world of you, you know! He's the one that pointed me to you for this!" 

"Who -- Jake?" 

"Yes, _Jake_ , who else?" She giggles. "I think it's really sweet." 

"Uh, thanks. Has he been... talking about me? To you? Lately?" He tries not to sound desperate, but even he can tell he's failing miserably at it. She cocks her head at him, puppy ears twitching. 

"A little?" she says, and he isn't sure what to say, so they just stand there for a moment, silently regarding one another. 

"I don't suppose you can tell me what he's been saying."

"I promised I'd keep a tight lid on it," Jade says, smirking. "Buuut..." 

"...But?" 

"I guess I'll just ask outright? Are you upset at him?" 

"At _Jake?_ No. I mean -- no, of course not." 

"Not at _all?_ " Jade presses, floating closer. 

"Why would I be?" 

She shrugs. "I think he thinks you are? And I did tell him he was probably overthinking it, trust me! But he just gets things in his head, you know? I do it sometimes, too. Little things just have a way of getting stuck in there, don't they?"

"Little things, like what?" 

"Well, I don't know for sure. He was being a little cagier than usual! But -- maybe you could talk to him? Let him know that you're not upset, assuming you really aren't?" 

Dirk laughs, a tinge of bitterness to it. "Are you giving me permission? I'm generally not supposed to message him first." 

"Oh, stop. It's not that you aren't allowed to message him first, don't be like that." It's a little remarkable how her voice goes from this teasing lilt to hard and cracking like a whip in a blink, and he stares at her, surprised. She stares right back, a little wrinkle forming in between her eyebrows. "I think you use that as an excuse sometimes to avoid things when they don't go perfectly, and it's not fair to make him _always_ have to be the one to open up difficult conversations! You wouldn't believe how much he stresses over it! He makes himself sick!" 

Dirk's stomach curls in on itself at this, and all too familiar acid thoughts swirl around in his shitty, fucked up brain. It doesn't seem to matter _what_ he does, how he approaches a situation, it always results in him making Jake feel like shit. It's inevitable, isn't it? They aren't good for each other, and maybe they never were. 

"I didn't mean," he starts, but Jade waves him quiet, shaking her head. 

"Listen. I don't really know _what_ is going on between you, because he won't give me any actual details, either. But I know he's worried about it and I know it would make him feel a super a thousand times a lot better if you would just tell him you aren't angry at whatever it is, because apparently you're not? That's it! You're allowed to do things like that, why wouldn't you be? The only thing you're _not_ allowed to do is purposely try to make him feel guilty about needing a little bit of time to recharge his batteries!" 

"Wow," he says, because he feels like he's been kicked in the head and can't really think of anything else to say. Jade folds her arms over her chest and sighs. 

"And I guess, since I have you here anyway, can I say one more thing? And this isn't even about Jake." 

"I mean, can I stop you?" 

"No," she says, and she -- doesn't exactly smile, but just -- _bares her teeth._ She has remarkably sharp canines, which is appropriate, he supposes, given the whole... dog thing. 

"Let's hear it, then," he says. 

"Can you please stop glaring at my brother every time you see him? He's starting to think you hate him. And I _really_ hope that's just a big misunderstanding, because if you're going to be _with_ my grandpa you need to be part of our whole family, and that family definitely includes John!" 

Dirk tilts his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, and pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand beneath his shades. "I don't hate John," he says. _And I'm still learning how to deal with my own damn family, let alone yours, so fucking chill, thanks,_ he thinks, irritated. 

"So, the glaring...?" 

"It's Roxy. It's just... Roxy, okay?" 

"But I thought you weren't... I mean, I thought you were--" 

"We're _not._ And I am. It's not like that. It's just..." He fumbles for the words. How does he explain him and Roxy? 

"Complicated?" Jade sounds resigned, and she's staring at her glowing feather, again, fluffy ears drooped. 

"Yeah. Really complicated." 

"I was really hoping that everyone here could just get along, like one big happy family, you know?" 

"We probably will, eventually. Like, once I get over my shit. Which I figure at least has _a_ chance of happening, however small, sometime between now and eternity?" 

She snorts, and with a quick twitch of her hands and fluttering of robes, the feather is gone and her hands are once again resting solidly on her hips. "Well. Do your best, ok? And talk to Jake!" 

"You got it." 

"Good," she says. "See? Good talk! We definitely need to talk more." And then she's waving and floating away, leaving him alone with a pile of disembodied robot parts and his phone burning a hole in his jeans.

TT: Hey.   
TT: Not to intrude or anything, but I've kinda been hearing some rumors, and I wanted to set the record straight, I guess?   
TT: I'm not mad at you. Not even a little.   
TT: I'm not going to get into it, don't worry. I'll just say that I miss you, and I hope if you're avoiding me, it's because you just need your time. Not because you think I don't want to hear from you.   
TT: That's it. So, yeah. Talk to you whenever.   


He waits ten minutes before he puts his phone away. Maybe it wasn't fair to expect a response. 

But he's a little angry at Jade for getting his hopes up, anyway. 

\-- 

He wakes up from disturbing, nebulous dreams where he's having whispered conversations with Jake, only his body is mostly incorporeal and his thoughts aren't entirely his own, like he's being poured from two pitchers at once. He can't remember a single word that was said, or even a word of one of those strange, intrusive thoughts, but he knows that if he could he'd be fairly disturbed by them. Which is in of itself a little disturbing. He flops onto his back with a sigh. 

\-- And his phone buzzes on the bedside table, rattling loud enough to make him jump. 

Muttering with irritation, Dirk snatches the offending device and scrolls through his messages, and, there it is.

GT: You up over there strider?   
GT: I know its some god awful time of the night but i cant sleep and i know you have issues with that sometimes too so i figured i might as well give it the old heave ho.   
TT: Good instincts as usual, English.   
GT: Hah.   
GT: Well hello.   


Dirk can just imagine him saying it; _well hello._ In his mind, Jake gives it that soft sort of teasing tone, the one he uses when he's trying to be charming. Like he even has to try.

TT: Hey. What's up?  
GT: So far as i can figure just a bunch of silly restless chit chattering to be honest.   
TT: Is that all this is?   
TT: I mean, I'll take it. But just to be clear.   
GT: I meant thats what i was doing before i messaged you. Although i guess thats a bit like what this is too. Strictly speaking.   
TT: I'm surprised anyone else is still up.   
GT: Plenty of people are still up at this hour actually.   
TT: Jade?   
GT: Shes awake yeah. Shes still at the lab if you can believe it! Shes tireless just like my grandma was. Which makes sense because she *is* my grandma only younger and erm more alive.   
TT: I'm glad you've been able to spend so much time with her.   
GT: Me too. But she isnt the only one! Theres john. Hes been playing video games with roxy all night. Shes a lot better than him and he sends me updates on the score tally. I think because he knows i think its funny.   
GT: And theres karkat too but actually he hasnt replied for awhile so maybe we went to sleep after all?  
GT: He just disappears at some point in the night usually but thats all right because i do that too.   
GT: But, see, damn it!  
GT: Thats not what i wanted to talk about! Oh boy.   


Dirk is kind of reeling with the revelation that Jake has apparently just been _talking_ to all of these other people all this time -- how did he not know this? Why does it make him feel so fucking _betrayed,_ like he's the only one allowed to monopolize Jake's chatting time? That if Jake isn't talking to him -- why is he talking to other people, then? It's so fucking hard not to take it personally. What a shitty way to feel about the fact that your boyfriend has a life apart from you, he thinks. Maybe the reason it feels so shitty is because he isn't sure he has much of one apart from _Jake._ But if he gets _socially drained_ or whatever so easily, it's hard not to feel like he has a claim on the juice that's available, so to speak, and -- 

Yeah. Shitty. Knock it the fuck off, Strider.

TT: Uh, well.   
TT: For what it's worth, I'm sorry if it seems like you're the one that always has to start these conversations.   
GT: "These" conversations? You dont even know what im going to say!  


_God damn it, Jade,_ he thinks, a little vindictively. He sits up and throws his legs over the side of the bed, squinting and studying the too-bright glare of the screen.

TT: No, but, I mean...?  
TT: Uh, never mind.   
TT: Go ahead.  
GT: Right then.   
GT: First i guess thanks for the message earlier. Even though i think jade might have put you up to it! It was still nice to hear.   
TT: No problem.   
GT: Second i want to talk about that conversation we had on our last date.   
GT: Ive been thinking about what you said. Like thinking about it a whole friggin lot to be perfectly candid.   
TT: And?  
TT: Uh, that's not meant to be short. I'm just curious what you came up with, thoughts wise.   
GT: Right-o. *Ahem*   
GT: So it seemed like you were saying you werent ready to get up to any more physical activities because you were afraid it would make you get too sentimental and you didnt want to scare me off.   
GT: Do i have that at least a little bit right? Its hard to tell how much of this comes from you and from my opinion of what you might be thinking is and its just the stickiest fucking wicket i swear.   
TT: How much of... what?  
TT: I mean, you're not wrong. That's pretty much the gist of it, sure.   
GT: UH  
GT: Just of my thinking through things and such thats all.   
TT: Hm.   
GT: ANYWAY heres the thing!  
GT: I dont mind you being sentimental at all. Its not like when we get up to certain things i dont feel any of that myself. I do.   
GT: I like being with you. You know i care about you and all that i hope. Im sure ive said so plenty of damn times and i mean it when i do.   
TT: Yeah, but,   
TT: Okay.   
TT: All right, listen.   
TT: There's this fucked up thing that happens in my head, when we're getting up to "physical activities," as you so delicately put it.   
GT: Oh boy!!   
TT: Like, I start thinking nonsensical shit. For example: well, you clearly like this kind of physical proximity right now, so maybe from now on you'll need less distance. Like, instead of it always just being this one time thing I should just enjoy on its own merits, I have to think about it in terms of what it means. Long term. What it says about your feelings, in regards to me or our relationship or whatever the fuck.   
TT: Even if I know it probably doesn't mean anything at all, it's just -- sex, right? It feels fucking awesome, isn't that enough reason? But my brain just won't shut the fuck up, ever.   
TT: And I let it get to me, a lot of the time. Let myself build up these unrealistic expectations, and then let myself be disappointed when they're proven unrealistic.   
TT: I'm honestly afraid of starting that cycle again, and I'm not sure what to do about it.   
TT: So, yeah.   
TT: That's my piece.   
TT: Sorry about how embarrassing that must be to read. If it makes you feel any better, it was almost definitely way more worse to write.   
TT: Anyway, I'm done.   
GT: Christ okay.   
GT: Let me take a minute here i need a fucking breather after that.   
TT: Sure.   
GT: *PHEW*  
GT: Okay.   
GT: Listen here strider.   
GT: It was never your having feelings that was the problem. It was exactly this here!   
GT: You questioning MY feelings all the damn time!  
GT: Like you just cant possibly fathom id give a darn toot about you in anywhere near the same fashion you do about me and you always had to act like you thought i was one step off from telling you to go suck eggs no matter what i did or said or anything!  
GT: And I do get tired. You know that. It never means that i feel any less fond overall.  
GT: And you know what??   
GT: Im just going to say it!  
GT: *takes a deep breath*  
GT: Sex does feel fucking awesome! It does! And its been longer now since we got back together than we waited the first time we got together in the first place!   
GT: And its worse holding off on the whole thing now because these days i like to think i have a general notion of what the sweet dunderfuck im doing, whereas back then we were just a pair of nervous nancies not knowing what we were on about at all!  
GT: Its something i like doing not just because of how it feels but because its a way i know i can make you happy. That i can show you how thrilled i actually am to be with you?  
GT: In a way that you can understand and maybe this is silly coming from a page of friggin hope but i like to think its something you can maybe fucking believe in a little bit?   
GT: Im awful with words you know that just look at this mess here.   
GT: But i like to think im not awful with THAT.   
TT: Uh, no.   
TT: Okay, yeah, no.   
TT: Pretty much the opposite, dude.   
GT: So when you say you dont want to because you dont think i can possibly have as many feelings as you do about it feels pretty shitty when im thinking its the only really good way i have to show you.  
GT: Also i just plumb miss it is that so wrong??  
TT: No.   
TT: I mean, I do too.   
TT: I definitely do.   
GT: I just want you to believe me.   
TT: Yeah, I get it.   
GT: Do you really though?   
TT: I... yeah?   
TT: For a guy who says he isn't good with words, that was... pretty fucking clear, man.   
TT: I'm kind of reeling?   
GT: Well good!  
GT: Now you know what talking to you is like all the friggin time!!   


He tries not to let that sting. 

His instinct, of _course_ , is to question it. To take apart everything Jake just said and interrogate him -- did you mean this? Did you realize how this sounded? Did you mean it this way? Are you serious? Are you _serious?_ But he doesn't need Roxy hovering over his shoulder to point out how idiotic voicing any of _that_ would be, so he just swallows and takes a minute to think. Jake doesn't reply again. The text cursor just sits there, blinking, expectant. 

Jake wanting him at all is a fucking intoxicating thought. Jake wanting him like _this_ , the way he's describing, if it's true -- and he hates himself for having to throw that in -- his heart is racing, he feels too hot. He can't stay still. He tosses the sheets away from him and stands up. He paces around his room, studying his phone like a puzzle.

TT: Okay.   
TT: Here's the thing.   
TT: I get what you're saying.   
GT: So...  
TT: So, hold on.   
TT: I'm glad you said all that. That was... I mean, it's cool to know everything you just said.   
TT: Let's pretend that instead of saying "cool" just now, I used a word that actually adequately describes the way that felt to read.   
TT: Fuck.   
TT: But I'm not going to lie. The second we start this up again, and I want to, believe me, but the second we do I know I'm going to go right back to being a clingy piece of shit.   
TT: So I guess what I'm saying is, even though I know you hate it,   
TT: Those are things I'm going to need to hear again?  
TT: Like, just, every so often, maybe?  
TT: I believe you. I do. This isn't me not believing you.   
TT: It's just my fucking head, it doesn't stop.   
TT: I can slow it down, some, but I can't stop it.   
TT: Okay?   
TT: Sorry.   
TT: Fuck.   
GT: Okay.   
TT: ...Okay?  
GT: I said okay!   
GT: I mean i can try cant i?   
GT: If fumbling out a bunch of half cooked dialogue to try and put the lasso over my feelings and whatnot for you is what it takes to get this ball rolling again im more than willing.   
GT: So long as you understand its probably going to be stupid and come out not at all how i mean.   
GT: And you!!  
GT: Youre not allowed to question it!  
GT: Ill say what i want to say and youll just have to take it as is without mincing it apart right in front of me because i cant stand that dirk i really cant.   
GT: Is that a deal?   
TT: Yeah.   
TT: It's a deal.   
GT: Its not really a deal until we shake on it. Thats the rules.   
TT: I would, but my city can and your jungle orb are sort of a few thousand miles apart, man.   
GT: Thats a bunch of hogswallop and you know it.   
TT: Also it's some ridiculous hour. Dave might catch me sneaking out, then what?  
GT: Are you serious!  
GT: You cant be serious.   
GT: Strider i swear to jesus mary and joseph if you dont drag your speckled ass out here so we can settle this agreement like good and proper gents im calling the whole thing off!  
GT: UH  
GT: THE AGREEMENT I MEAN  
GT: Not our entire arrangement!  
GT: And i wasnt even serious about that!  
GT: Calling it off i mean!  
GT: God damn it i did it again!  
TT: This is amazing?   
GT: QUIET, YOU  
TT: Ok.   
GT: Are you coming over?  
TT: I'm already like, halfway to the transportalizer, dude.   


Which is only barely a lie. Sneaking out is easy when you can fucking fly.

GT: See i knew it!  
GT: This is why i dont understand why you need me to use words all the damn time im so friggin BAD at it!  
TT: Not all the time.   
TT: Just, some of it.   
GT: Well im done with words right now let me tell you.   
GT: Everything else ive got to say youll just have to let me tell you my own damn way and thats that!  
TT: I think that sounds fair.   
TT: I'm looking forward to it.   
TT: And by looking forward, I mean I'm actually floating through Can Town in my flimsy goddamn pajamas, which are unhelpfully hiding absolutely nothing about the current state of my pants real estate, praying Roxy and John aren't playing their video games in her fucking lab right now because they will see this and they will know.   
TT: They will know everything, Jake.   
GT: How flimsy exactly?   
TT: Extremely.   
GT: Hm.   
TT: I'm glad you're worried about what's important, here.   
GT: Im a simple man with simple priorities.   
TT: Well, just so you know, if I don't make it over there it's because I died of mortification en route.  
TT: Forget the pants situation, my hair isn't even done.   
TT: That's how serious this is.   
GT: Can you guess what *im* wearing?   
TT: Uh.   
GT: Smart guy?   
TT: Are you wearing... anything?   
GT: Hot damn you did remember!  
TT: Like I'm going to fucking forget sleeping preferences like THAT, come on, Jake.   
GT: But can you get here before i get these pants on???   


_Fuck,_ he thinks, blinking at his phone. He feels -- a little bit crazy, actually. Cans are streaking past him in a blur, left and right, and the lab they salvaged out of scavenged meteor parts that Roxy practically lives in is looming up ahead of him and he's _actually_ a little afraid she's going to be in there with her boyfriend, and if she is, he hopes _all_ they're doing is playing games together, because -- 

Fuck. 

Just, fuck.

TT: That sounds like a challenge, English.   
GT: Maybe it is.  
GT: All i can say is i suggest less typing and more flying.   
GT: Or you are DEFINITELY going to lose.   


_We'll see about that,_ he thinks, grinning.

\--

Roxy _isn't_ in the Can Town lab, thank god, and the transportalizer spits him out in a similar lab some several thousand miles away, except this one is underground. It houses much of the same equipment, ectobiology machines and uranium-hungry fuel cells, projector type monitors and several machines they haven't figured out the full functionality of, yet. Troll and Skaia tech fused together so the fish queen could run her heinous experiments, and it's kind of a slap in the face how much further along she was integrating her technology and the game's to such devastating effect. They're hundreds of years behind. 

And -- and too late, he remembers what Jake said about Jade's whereabouts. _Still at the lab if you can believe it!_

She startles up with a disconcertingly animal-like yelp while the transportalizer's energy crackles around him, spots dancing in his vision, and they lock eyes. Hers are very wide, and the way they sweep up and down his pajama-clad body -- oh, fuck. 

"Gotta go," he chokes out, spinning on a heel and leaping back into the air. 

He can _hear_ her laughing as he jets through the inclined tunnel leading out. His face is burning and he is definitely going to pay a heavy price in humiliation for this excursion later, but what's done is done and Jake's house-bedroom-orb is right there in those trees, so he tries to just focus on that. Jake, waiting for him. Jake, naked and eager and _hungry_ for him. Fuck. Nothing matters compared to that, right? 

He ducks into the thick green canopy that covers the island, weaving between the trees, and there it is. There's a light on in the little gap in the wall that only just barely passes for a window, and he's sort of pissed off that the damn thing is way too small to climb through. How smooth would that have been? Instead he has to duck down and trudge his ass up the stairs like a mortal. 

"You'd better be in there, English," he calls up, and he hears a few thumps and then there's a _creak_ and then Jake is staring at him from above, standing at the top of his little staircase and blinking down at him. He's wearing possibly the most shit eating grin Dirk has ever seen, and, as promised, absolutely nothing else. He's stunning. He knows it. 

"Well, fancy that! Jade _just_ mentioned I might be having a visitor," he says, waving his phone between them. 

"Oh, fuck you," Dirk growls. His feet leave the floor and he shoots up across the distance, and the way Jake laughs as they crash together is worth all the embarrassing run-ins in the world. Jake is built too damn solid to go down easy, so he just sort of catches Dirk right out of the air and into a pleasantly crushing embrace. He smells like he's been out in the jungle all day, and god knows, he probably has been, and he always waits too long between showers. Dirk is desperate enough for him that even _that_ is sort of turning him on. Jake is dirt and sweat and mossy green, warm through the fabric of his shitty pajama tank top, and Dirk wants him so badly it's a little painful. Not just in his pants, that's a given, but in the way his chest tightens and it's a little hard to breathe. 

Jake doesn't say anything. He just squeezes him, runs his hands up under Dirk's shirt immediately and digs his nails in just beneath his shoulder blades. Dirk mutters an expletive or two at that, and Jake smirks like it was exactly the reaction he was going for. Maybe it was.

"No pants," Dirk points out, while Jake slots one leg between both of his and presses in with obvious purpose. It's a fucking Herculean effort, but Dirk just barely manages to keep himself from grinding against his knee like a god damned animal. "Guess I win, then?" 

"If this is losing," Jake says, "Sign me right the heck up." He tilts his chin up and Dirk meets him eagerly, and they just cling to each other for awhile, exchanging sloppy kisses. Jake's fingers are rough over his back, sliding up, down, tracing his spine, toying with the elastic of his waistband. When he slips his fingers down inside, tracing over the curve of his ass, Dirk gasps into his mouth and he can't help it, he rocks his hips forward onto Jake's knee after all. Jake gives his ass a firm squeeze and pulls his head back with a wet sound, and just _looks_ at him with an intensity that turns Dirk's insides to liquid. 

"What?" Dirk pants down at him, stilling self-consciously. 

"Nothing! I mean, nothing -- I've just _missed_ this, you prickly damn ponce!" Jake pulls him closer, and he's hard, too, his cock is warm and pressed against Dirk's stomach, and fuck, oh fuck. How is he supposed to think? Respond? 

"Shit, me too," he says, which sounds lame as fuck out loud, but Jake seems to like it well enough because the tightness at the corners of his eyes disappears and he dips down again for another wet kiss. Jake likes them sloppy, and Dirk likes Jake liking things, so he's more than happy to oblige. "Fuck," he manages to get out between them, when they break apart to breathe. "I've missed so damn many things." 

"Show me," Jake suggests, and Dirk's eyes flicker to his, down suggestively, and then back up again. His eyebrows shoot up. Jake tilts his head, and that smirk is back, and he knows full damn well what this does to him, that kind of request. Not quite an order, but not quite _not._ Dirk swallows, pulls back a bit. His dick throbs at the lost pressure, and the pit of his stomach is all squirming heat and selfish need, want, _need._ Jake's fingers find their way into his hair, raking through on either side. "You won't need these," he says, and then he plucks Dirk's shades right off and tosses them over at the bed. 

"Can we please not throw the shades around," Dirk says, deadpan. 

"If you don't want them tossed off, maybe you ought to refrain from wearing them for this sort of thing in the first place, next time!" 

"Not gonna happen, man." 

Jake makes a frustrated scoffing noise, but he's still smiling, and the look in his eyes is fond. At least, Dirk thinks that's fondness, he's not very good at reading people this way, up close and personal. It's terrifying if he lets himself think about it too hard, how different face to face conversation is from chatting through text, how utterly unprepared he was for it, how easily it still overwhelms him if he lets it. Not the way Jake gets, but rather, the way a thirsty man dying in the desert might inadvertently die of water poisoning if he ever found his fucking oasis. 

"Strider," Jake says, in this admonishing tone that cuts right through his internal panic. Jake's fingers drag themselves up along either side of Dirk's jaw, over his ears, back up into his hair. His fingers tighten painfully in it, and he pulls Dirk's face down so they're staring eye to eye. Without his shades it's almost too much, this much eye contact this close. "I said, _show me._ " 

Dirk takes a deep breath, blinks once, slowly, and then, just like that, he sinks to his knees. Jake makes a pleased sound, hips twitching forward. It's been so many long months since Dirk has seen him like this, from this angle, that he just takes a second to appreciate it. Jake English is _absurdly_ attractive. Thick legs, sharp hips, a thatch of dense curls that only barely thins out as it fans up toward his navel. Dark skin over taut muscle peppered here and there with contrasting scars, and he knows most of their stories by now by heart. Jake is standing over him, but the authority in his posture and that hands-on-hips stance is sort of undercut by the way he's biting his lip in obvious anticipation. 

Normally, Dirk would drag this out more. 

But it's been so god damn long. 

He licks his lips, leans foward, and runs his tongue over the head of his dick, just enough to tease. Jake makes an appreciative sound, and Dirk slips his arms around his legs, hands gripping the back of his thighs. He starts lower this time, licking along the underside of the shaft, moving messily from base to tip. Jake sighs and his eyes slip shut, and Dirk repeats the motion, moving over him in eager stripes and circles, considering his next steps. Jake isn't as long as he is, but he's _thick_ , and Dirk is out of practice. 

Not far enough out that he can't get the hang of it again pretty quick, though. By the time he actually takes him in, cheeks hollowed, sucking noisily, Jake is murmuring shivery curses and has his fingers back in Dirk's hair, soothing and pulling in equal amounts. "God, yes, Dirk, that's the thing," he moans, while Dirk blinks up at him and slowly slides down his length. "Take it all," Jake begs him, and the way he yanks him by the hair a little carelessly, _almost_ too roughly, dragging him further down his cock -- it's so hot, it's so _fucking_ hot how bad he wants it. "All of it, Dirk, shit, that's, oh fucking _horsefeathers,_ " he gasps, and Dirk makes a noise around him that is _intended_ to be reprimanding, but it just comes out like a gratified moan. 

Jake holds Dirk's head in place with his fists in his hair and snaps his hips forward, just a little too fast, a little too hard, it's _almost_ too much, it's been so long since they've done this. But Dirk swallows around him and just barely manages to keep it together. The noises he makes are extremely fucking undignified, and so is the way his throat clicks when he swallows between thrusts, the way his eyes blur with tears of effort more than any specific emotion. 

"You're so damn good," Jake is saying, babbling away while his hips work back and forth. "Jesus _Christmas_ I don't know how you, how this, how are you so _good_ , it's so good, it's so fucking _good_ , Dirk," he moans, and Jake's pleasure is like a lightning rod to Dirk's own somewhat neglected dick. He whimpers around Jake's cock, slides his hands up Jake's legs and over his shapely ass, squeezing. Those humiliating fucking tears are leaking from the corners of his eyes, his face is burning so hot it's a wonder he doesn't just catch fire, and a slow trickle of sweat tracks its way from his hair down behind his ear and it's _maddening_ , he can't move or think. The closer Jake gets the faster he goes, and Dirk _refuses_ to tap out of this, not when he can look up with blurry eyes and see for himself the way it's affecting him. The way Jake's eyes are half-closed and his lips wet and parted, chin titled own, chest and neck and face flushed dark and tinged red. 

He tries to make his noises encouraging, and if they're a little choked with the effort of this, Jake doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he groans out a string of barely coherent curses. "I don't think I can stop," he gasps, and Dirk acknowledges this with another garbled sound of pleasure, encouraging him. _No one said you had to stop, bro,_ he thinks, a little hysterically. "Fuck, _shit,_ Strider, damn you, god _damn_ you, I forgot how good you are, how good, how _good,_ " he repeats this like a litany in time with his thrusts, and then even that dissolves into incoherent moaning. Jake's legs shake and his ass goes taut under Dirk's hands when he comes, and Dirk's eyes snap open as the evidence hits the back of his throat with enough force that he almost -- _almost_ gags over it. He swallows it as best he can, and thanks whatever gods are willing to work with debauchery in progress that Jake's dick almost immediately starts softening, taking some of the pressure off his aching jaw. 

"Jesus, Dirk," Jake mutters. His grip on Dirk's hair goes from hard and demanding to soft and soothing, and he shivers and twitches in place while Dirk just kneels there in place and licks the head of his shrinking cock clean. Jake clears his throat and lets him go, stepping away when he's had enough -- or maybe just too much -- of that. "I wasn't actually intending, to..." Jake laughs, and there's a little undercurrent of nervousness to it. Dirk yanks up the hem of his tank top and wipes his face on it, wincing. 

"You know I don't mind doing that for you," he says, muffled into the fabric. His voice is embarrassingly hoarse. It's easier to talk about this shit when they can't see each other's faces. He's replaying everything that just happened, and once again he has to face the uncomfortable thought that he _might_ , maybe, just _slightly_ get off on humiliating himself for Jake's benefit. Fuck. 

"Yes, but after all that talk before of me showing _you_ a thing or two, well," Jake makes a _hmm_ noise, taps Dirk lightly on the shoulder. "Feels a bit... like I let myself get carried away, and, hah." 

Dirk drops his shirt back down, glances at the mess that's been transferred onto it, and winces, pulling it off over his head instead. He tosses it away and Jake makes an interested noise, which he has to admit is extremely gratifying. "We've still got, like, all night," Dirk points out, and he can't possibly miss the way Jake's gaze drops down to ogle his crotch. The situation there is getting a little critical. "So, whatever you want to do, I'm ready for it." 

"In that case, how about you get up and--?" Jake taps his lips twice, smirking, and -- yeah. Okay. Easy enough. His legs are a little wobbly, and he can't help but grind a little against Jake while they go back to enthusiastically making out, and when Jake tugs him toward the bed he trips over some stupid bullshit scattered over his sloppy ass floor and comes _this damn close_ to biting Jake's tongue off. Jake just laughs, pushing him down, crawling over him, pinning him with his hands and knees. His dick is still nowhere near recovered from its previous exertions, and Dirk's own ever-present pressing need is a torture he's beginning to think Jake is just going to let him live with forever?

"Jake," he pretty much whines from underneath him, lifting his ass up in a fruitless bid to get some fucking friction on his relevant parts. Jake pushes him back down with one knee, grinning. 

"Now, hold on there, mister," Jake scolds him. He leans down and plants an embarrassingly sloppy kiss on the side of Dirk's face, right under his earlobe, and Dirk just sighs. He can't decide whether it's more frustrated or fond. Jake gives his earlobe a little nibble, and that's nice, but his dick is practically throbbing with need, and, fuck. 

" _Jake,_ " he says again, more urgently. "Can you maybe please just, I don't know, touch me? Please? Something?" 

"I really love it when you get like this," Jake says, and Dirk blinks up at him, brows smoothing, frustration evaporating into -- what? He isn't sure. Heat is definitely blooming in his stomach, though he isn't sure if it's at the words or the unexpected fondness they're spoken with. "All whiny and wriggly and desperate," Jake adds, punctuating the sentiment with another sloppy kiss, this one just under the hinge of his jaw. Which is still a little sore from earlier, if he's being honest. 

"Ah," Dirk says, and he sort of hates the way his voice shakes. "So that explains it. You're just here to see me squirm, pathetically, forever." 

"Not _just,_ " Jake promises, and his grip is so tight on Dirk's wrists that it's actually a little painful, pressing him into the mattress. "And not forever! But I don't know if you know what a damn sight you are to behold, Strider, and I just..." he looks away, a little bashful, and Dirk's heart thumps painfully. "I want you to know it, alright?" 

"Alright," Dirk says, and he means for it to come out authoritative and teasing, but instead it just slips out of him in an embarrassing fucking whisper, and Jake smiles. 

"I already told you I'm no good with words, but I promised I'd give it a shot, so..." he takes a deep breath. "Firstly, maybe this is obvious, but I just love looking at you." 

That's the second time Jake has used the word _love_ in the past few minutes, and Dirk has to fight the urge to start holding his breath, himself. Jake _never_ does this. What the fuck. He says nothing, just looks up, searching Jake's face. 

"I couldn't believe, actually, the first time I... when we, in person, when we were still afraid to touch each other at _all_ \-- do you remember that?" Jake laughs, quietly. "I thought you'd disappear like a friggin soap bubble if I did! Just, pop, gone, and..." he shakes his head. "But I could never stop _looking_ and thinking how could it be that someone like you would want to be with a dundering whippet like me?" 

"Jake--" Dirk starts, but Jake shakes his head, lifts one hand from his wrist and covers Dirk's mouth with it, instead. Dirk swallows, heavily. Jake leans in and kisses down his collarbone. When he lifts his head again, he's more than a little breathless. 

"So the first time we got down to the business of kissing and touching and all that, I thought you would be, different?" 

"Different," Dirk repeats. Where the fuck is this going, now? 

"More controlling?" Jake lifts his head, winces. "Except that sounds worse than I mean it! Fuck. Let me put it this way. You always took charge of every damn thing outside the bedroom, didn't you? Mapping things out and planning our days and weeks and _months_ , and I just thought that'd carry right through to whatever bedroom activities we got up to, too!" He's smiling, again, which is fucking strange because Dirk can feel himself frowning and he kind of wants to die. The reminder of what they were like, back then, what _he_ was like, with no one willing to call him out on just how badly he was fucking everything up. 

"But it didn't, did it? And I _like_ that. All that long winded cockamamie rambling just to say that, Christ, listen to me." Jake runs his fingers through his hair, pushes his glasses back up his nose. "I love the way you are, like this. I love the way you let me do things _to_ you, the way you _listen_ when I want you to do things to me. I love the way you look at me! I love the way you always start out pissy and gabbing at me for mussing up your ridiculous hair and then by the end it's sticking out in every damn direction and you don't even notice or think about it until hours later when we're cleaning up!" 

"Jesus, Jake," Dirk says, because he feels like he has to stem this tide, somehow, this is too much. Why does _this_ feel more fucking intimate than anything else they've done? He's breathing hard and his thoughts are like static, loud and distracting but ultimately incoherent.

"And going without this for so long has been a little bit like torture for _me,_ just so you know. You going on and on about taking it slow while I've just been feeling like I was missing something so critical, between us..." Jake kisses down his chest, wriggling against him, it is fucking maddening. "You think this is tough for you? Imagine feeling this for months!" He stops to press a kiss over the sensitive, pebbled skin of one nipple, and Dirk grunts and arches his back and hips up again, wordlessly begging. 

Jake lifts his head, brows creased, squinting up at him. His hands splay themselves over Dirk's chest and he wriggles down further, kissing down his stomach. "Does any of that make sense?" He murmurs the question against Dirk's skin. "Are any of those damn words you love so much sinking in, Strider?" 

"Yeah," Dirk pants, hating the way it comes out strained and breathless, even though he _knows_ that Jake wants that, likes that. "Yeah, okay. I get it." He knew some of this already, logically. He's not an idiot. It's obvious when Jake likes something and when he doesn't. But, damn. 

"And I guess, to cap all this embarrassing blather off, the last thing I really want to say is, I _like_ taking care of you this way. I'm not saying it's a selfless sort of thing, because obviously it's _not_ , but seeing what I can do to you is just as good as feeling what you can do to me, and that's god's honest truth. You're a catch, believe it or not, and when you've got the whopper on the line you don't just _let him go._ You do everything you can to land it!" 

"I'm not sure how I feel about this metaphor," Dirk cuts in, crossing his arms over his face. "Where does this end? Are you going to stuff me like a trophy? Roast me over a fire and serve me for dinner? Rude, English. A guest in your own home." 

Jake waves him off, dips down and kisses his navel, running his tongue around the edge of it. Dirk tightens his arms over his face, body tensing. "Who gives a damn about that part," Jake mumbles. "Just so long as I never have to tell anyone about the one who got away." 

"Uh, yeah." Dirk's voice is muffled into the inside of his own elbows. "Same. Pretty much. Sentiment wise. Yeah." 

Jake's thumbs hook into his waistband, and Dirk raises his hips off the bed as he yanks it down just far enough. Jake's breath is hot and hits him like a tactile caress, he's so fucking turned on, overstimulated, he's going to come in three seconds flat and there is not a god damned fucking thing he can do to stop it. Jake's tongue is fucking glorious against him, warm and wet and it feels so good, so fucking good. His hips squirm up and around against the mattress, and he pants a few muffled moans into his crossed arms, running the tumble of words still rattling around in his head through his processing centers over and over while Jake fucking baptizes his dick with his tongue. God. _I love the way you are, like this,_ he'd said, and whatever _this_ is, Dirk knows he wants to be that for him all the time, every day, for fucking ever, whatever it is Jake English _loves_ , that's what he needs to be. Jake grips the base of his dick in one hand, teasing the tip with his tongue. 

"I think," Jake says, pumping his fingers up and down Dirk's length, earning another choked little groan into his elbows, "It would really only be polite if you let me see your face while I do this, chum." 

Dirk laughs, untangling his arms and reaching up to grab the pillow under his head, instead. He glances down. Jake is on his elbows between his legs, one brow raised, still gripping Dirk's cock firmly. "Dude," Dirk says, choking back another laugh, "When you talk like that it looks like you're using my dick like a microphone." 

Jake scoffs, but his lips quirk up in a smile he can't quite bury and then it doesn't matter anymore because he's sliding his lips over Dirk's dick and _holy shit._ He can't take it all in, and Dirk would never make him try. Instead he tries his best to keep his hips from bucking up too much, tries to let Jake take it as his own pace, which is slow and sweet and the way he swipes his tongue up, down, around... "God," Dirk moans, fists clenching into the pillow. "Jake," he gasps, and the way Jake's eyes flicker up and meet his when he says his name is fucking exquisite. 

He doesn't last long, but he _does_ beat his estimated time of three fucking seconds by enough that it isn't completely humiliating. It takes all the fucking willpower in the new universe _not_ to cover his face again when he comes, to just tilt his chin up and moan at the ceiling and let Jake's eyes drag over him however they please, but he manages it. Barely. When he can breathe again, he finds he's still gripping the pillow tight enough to make his fingers ache. It takes some mental effort to let go. 

Jake is sitting back on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, wearing a perfectly smug expression that Dirk wants to make fun of him for, but he doesn't have the breath for it. Jake waggles his eyebrows at him, and Dirk half-groans, half-laughs in this raspy way that makes it even _harder_ to catch his breath, and then he can't stand it anymore and covers his eyes with one hand. Jake crawls back over him, warm and damp with sweat. Their skin sticks with it where it touches. 

"You really are a ridiculously fetching fellow," Jake breathes into his ear, settling on top of him. He's heavy, but not _too_ heavy -- Dirk likes the sensation, really, the pressure, the full body contact. He sighs. 

"Says the most attractive guy in the entire universe," Dirk smiles. "Literally. I kinda know them all." 

Jake lets out an embarrassed chuckle, then grabs Dirk's wrist and pulls his hand off his eyes insistently. "You don't always have to keep them covered, idiot," he says. 

"Sorry," Dirk shrugs. "I don't... really know why I do that. I just..." 

"We'll break the habit, eventually," Jake declares. "I'll see to that, just watch." 

"If you say so." 

Jake doesn't respond. He just tucks his face into the joint between Dirk's neck and shoulder and breathes, squirming tighter against him. It's nice that he likes to cuddle, at least. Dirk never feels like he has to beg for _this_ , which is a fucking relief because if Jake didn't do it naturally he's certain he _would_ , and the thought is so embarrassing he wants to die just considering it. 

It's maddeningly quiet, now, just their mutual breathing punctuating the silence.

"Hey," Dirk says into it, softly. 

"Mm," Jake grunts back. 

"I just want you to know, like. That was... the stuff you said, earlier. That was, uh." 

"Meant every word," Jake mumbles, kissing his neck. Dirk swallows. _Just be cool,_ he thinks, desperately. _Don't make this weird. Don't take this too far. Just be fucking cool._

"So, like." 

"Hm?" 

_I think I love you,_ he thinks, and his face flushes and his brain floods with blind panic. _Don't fucking say that, oh my fucking god._

"Thanks," he says instead, choking over the word, how fucking perfunctory and inadequate it is, but -- Jake snuggles closer, and Dirk can feel him smiling, and, fuck. Just -- fuck. 

"You're welcome," Jake sighs, and Dirk knows better than to press his luck any more than that. 

It's not enough. But it's better than it ever has been, before, and it feels like there's room for progress. And that's strangely comforting, different enough from the howling fucking emotions elemental he'd felt like back in the session, always wondering and second guessing, that he actually finds himself relaxing into the mattress, eyes drooping, thoughts winding down into uneasy contentment. 

_Huh,_ he thinks, while he flirts at the edge of sleep. _This is kind of... nice._

\--

It's a little less nice when he wakes up the next morning, and Jake is gone. 

Before he can panic and assume the worst, he sits up, blinks into the empty bedroom, and searches for his pants, which he kicked off the rest of the way and off the bed at some point overnight. There's a sound filtering in through the little window-slit in the orb that Dirk can't quite place, but that slips his mind when he finds his pants and sees his phone sticking out of the pocket, blinking with notifications. 

There's a few. He checks Jake's, first.

GT: God i hope youre checking this before you make any funny assumptions!  
GT: Its not what it seems like so calm down.   
GT: Ill be back in a jiffy dont you worry. Jade said she found a trace back on the logs searching for spritely flashing feathered chap and she wanted me to go with her to investigate!   
GT: She says there might be riddles or a shitty puzzle or something on this wild goose chase because the sprites are still stuck thinking in game logic and whatnot and im good at that sort of thing so im going with!  
GT: You can stay if you want but if you want to go back to can town thats fine too. Ill let you know when were back.   


There's a gap in the timestamps here, about ten minutes. Dirk swallows, scanning the text.

GT: And i guess also i just wanted to say.  
GT: Last night was really great.   
GT: Really really great, dirk.   
GT: And im looking forward to seeing you again later.   
GT: So um yeah.   
GT: See you soon.   


Dirk sits back on the bed, and he can't help the smile that plasters itself on his face and just sits there, refusing to budge. It's stuck there. Fuck. 

The noise outside the window gets louder, and Dirk's eyebrows crease, trying to parse it out. It sounds like -- is that possible? 

He peers out through the gap in the stone, already typing with one hand.

TT: Hey, Rox.   
TT: Did you manage to revive the fucking birds without telling me?   
TT: Unbelievable.   
TT: There are birds on Harlish Isle.   
TT: I'm staring at them, right now.   
TT: Well, staring at the place in the trees that they probably are.   
TT: They're making hells of noise, to be perfectly honest.   
TT: But it's kind of nicer than the weird silence that always hung over this place?   
TT: It's not natural, right, a jungle with no animal sounds?   
TT: Shit.   
TT: I think something just buzzed by the damn window, too?   
TT: Please tell me you didn't fucking revive the mosquitoes.   
TT: There's no way you made this much progress in one night.   
TT: You should really come see this.   
TT: Maybe it was Jade? Has she been holding out on you?   


She's almost definitely asleep, but Dirk can't stop sending messages. He's just kind of staring out, lips parted, reeling. It's like a little glimpse of what the earth might have been like before the Empress ruined it, and -- damn. 

What the fuck?

TG: are you serious?   
TG: wait  
TG: shit  
TG: i was about 2 SRSLY ream your rude ass for waking me up with a fucking textual barrage at fuck o clock in the morning but what the fuck???  
TG: is this a joke  
TG: i will murder u if i haul my ass all the way out there and this is a fuckin prank  
TG: esp if this was john or janes idea omg dirk  
TG: the pranks  
TG: they dont stop  
TT: It's not a prank.   
TG: fuckkkkkkk  
TG: how?  
TG: im on my way  
TT: See you soon.   


He's halfway through dressing himself when it hits him. He fumbles for his phone so fast he almost drops it. 

It's Jake.

TT: Do we know what Hope powers are like,   
TT: Actually capable of?   
TG: what  
TG: what are you talking about whats jake got to do with  
TG: wait  
TG: SHIIIIT  
TG: thats fuckin brilliant!  
TG: dirk! holy shit!  


It _has_ to be Jake, he thinks, squinting into the sunlight. The birds sing back. _Holy fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [@landofsomethingsomething](http://landofsomethingsomething.tumblr.com)!


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